


back to zero, here we go again

by VolxdoSioda



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Noctis is not in a good place, background character death/nonexistence, codependency beginnings, neither is Ardyn but he's handling it better, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: "Do not abandon me yet, King of Light."





	back to zero, here we go again

"Do not abandon me yet, King of Light."

It's a whisper, barely heard, but even half-unconscious as he is, Noctis would recognize that voice anywhere. There's a hand beneath his head, cradling his throbbing skull with an unexpected tenderness, as Ardyn lifts him out of the waters of the sewer. Fingers find his pulse, tracing his heartbeat with care as they move, and like this Noctis can feel Ardyn's limp, the pronounced loss of his left leg that he kept hidden until the very end of their first life together, when that leg had given up on him at the very end, dumping him onto cold stone where he had faded.

It's fitting then, that Ardyn would be the one to find him like this now, half-dead in the sewers, after a night of bad decisions and worst friends.

A sigh ruffles his hair; Noctis shivers in his grip, and is rewarded with brief movement, and then a rush of heat as Ardyn tucks him beneath his many layered jacket. "Our third try together, and you couldn't even be bothered to wait for my arrival this time."

If Noctis had the ability to raise his head and open his eyes right now, he would tell Ardyn  _"I waited four years for you, and you never came, so I went looking for you."_ He doesn't, because his head is still throbbing and his body still hurts and the poison in his blood from where the Naga bit him still sears him like fire. 

"Idiot boy," Ardyn murmurs, and in his voice it's as much a chastisement as it is a pet name. "Foolish, idiot boy."

 _Bastard,_ Noctis thinks, fond and heart-wrenchingly upset all at once.  _You utter, deplorable bastard of a man._

It's still dark, when the scent of fresh air finally reaches Noctis' lungs. Ardyn carries him out, and it's only when he opens the passenger door and lays Noctis down on the seat that Noctis finally tries to open his eyes. He manages to peel one back a little - the lack of blindng light helps. Ardyn's golden gaze meets his, the man arching an eyebrow as Noctis closes his eyes and groans quietly.

"In pain, are we? Perhaps that will teach you not to go wandering off, next time."

He snarls, and regrets that, hissing when pain lances through his head. The door shuts beside him, and Ardyn's footsteps bring him around to the other side. The rumble of the car makes his head hurt worse, but it also makes him open his eyes again.

"Got tired of waiting," he grits out. "Four years."

"Do you not recall the state of our great nation right now?" Ardyn asks calmly as he buckles himself in, and then reaches over to do the same to Noctis. "Gralea is still at  _war,_ Highness. And your Insomnia isn't much further off. I'm aware patience is not your strong suit--"

"Has nothing to do with  _patience,"_ Noctis snarls. "Ignis is  _dead,_ Ardyn. His fucking uncle killed him six months ago, and we can't prosecute him because he's part of the Inner Court, and they never fucking get hit with anything. Gladio doesn't  _exist yet,_ and Prompto never got out of Gralea. I just--" His voice cracks, his anger fading away as the sorrow hits, a sharp reminder that the people he loved do not always exist in the same round as he.

He got lucky, the first two times. They were there, even if they didn't understand how Noctis was so quiet and wise even when he was young. They were supportive and loving, and when they died again Noctis mourned. Now he doesn't have that - Ignis he barely met, his uncle an abusive bastard this time, unwilling to let his free slave go tend to someone other than him - and Gladio and Prompto aren't here, and most likely will never be. Or by the time they finally do arrive, Noctis will be too old. 

Ardyn says nothing to this. He waits, patient as the sun itself, and just as old. Noctis sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, and says, "There was just you. And you didn't come, so when I heard there was something in the sewers, I went looking. I wasn't doing it for shits and giggles."

He's tired. He closes his eyes again, leaning against the seat of the car. "You know what, never mind. Think whatever the hell you want."

Ardyn says nothing as he returns Noctis to Insomnia's gates. As he cheerfully dons his hat and coat at the gate, and opens the door for Noctis, and escorts him back to his room. People don't even blink at the Chancellor of NIflheim escorting the Crown Prince of Insomnia, so whatever Ardyn's been doing in his spare time has evidently soothed fears. Or maybe they just don't know who he is, yet.

Noctis goes to open his door, but Ardyn neatly catches his hand, sliding his down until Noctis' hand is curled in Ardyn's own. The sensation of familiar skin against his own is nearly enough to make Noctis cry - nobody touches him here, and the few people who  _did--_

"The rooms on the eastern side are mine," Ardyn says casually, and Noctis' head snaps up. "I will have them set up in the next few days, once I make myself known to Regis. When you have a free moment, come and see me. We need to talk, you and I."

"About what."

"You and I, and all of this." His fingers dance through the air, indicating the world around them. "How this will go, how things should be from now on. Two thousand years is long enough to go without touch, Noctis." And the fingers of his hand holding Noctis' curl tighter, twining between his own, stroking at his palm. "We already have one mad king, we do not require  _another._ Hmm?"

Noctis doesn't dare move, doesn't dare breathe wrong. He hates - and loves, if he's being honest with himself - how Ardyn can simply look at him and understand what he needs without needing to drag out the truth from Noctis' unwilling throat. He hates and loves that this has become part of it, Ardyn casually using his age to drag out every last secret Noctis is unwilling to speak of from the darkness, and give him what he needs.

"I'm fine," he says, and means it not at all.

Ardyn smiles beatifically. It's entirely insincere. "Of course you are."

He's kept his fingers stroking Noctis' palm all throughout the conversation, a soothing circle of movement - of human connection. Now he breaks it, and Noctis almost grabs him, but locks up at the last instant. Ardyn doesn't give him a backwards glance as he moves away, but he doesn't need to. Not when he knows Noctis will come to him sooner rather than later, will try to press close without Ardyn knowing.

They both know how the evening talks will end - with Noctis gritting out truths between his teeth like he's pulling nails out of floorboards, and Ardyn watching him, waiting with the patience of a centuries old King for the moment Noctis yields to his designs. Patience is the key to it all, and despite Ardyn's words, it's a game that Noctis will never beat him in, no matter how old he gets or how long he waits.

And it's a game they'll continue to play, for as long as this unholy cycle, a curse or blessing, God-given all the same, goes on.


End file.
